


Respite

by ScottTylerFan2000



Category: The Power of Five - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: F/M, Gen, jamie tyler/holly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28055637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScottTylerFan2000/pseuds/ScottTylerFan2000
Summary: bits and pieces that will probably fill some of the space between nightrise and necropolis because i think about that time often.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

Jamie shakes Matt's hand. It's warm and strong. Jamie doesn't know if anyone else feels it but he gets a rush, a power. This is right, this is where he's always meant to be. Four of the five have come together and, for the first time in a long time, Jamie thinks everything is going to be ok. 

"This is Richard," says Matt, gesturing to the man behind him. Richard stands behind Matt with a hand on his shoulder, looking partially protective and partially welcoming. It kind of works. They stand on the threshold and staee at each other. At least, Jamie stares. Scott's looking behind, uneasy. Constantly uneasy. 

"Come in, we'll put the kettle on," says Richard, encouraging Matt away. They enter the farmhouse. It's beautiful; for as little as Jamie knows about architecture (which is little), he knows it is a wonderful work. A couple of weeks ago he would have felt very uncomfortable as he crossed the threshold in his dirty, torn prison sneakers but now it doesn't bother him. Scott follows him carefully, glancing around with suspicion. Jamie hasn't yet filled him in on anything from the past few weeks. Scott hasn't yet cared. 

It's afternoon. Matt leads them slowly through the house living room, the older man close to his side. The other boy - Pedro? - hovers and allows Scott and Jamie to walk in front, with the older woman at a slight distance behind them, wonder in her eyes. 

Pedro's the healer. Jamie looks back at him. He's smaller than all of them, slimmer even than he and Scott. Pedro eyes him warily in return. There's something steely in his eyes that Jamie recognises from a lifetime of foster care. He's a survivor.

The front room is airy and well decorated. Matt gingerly sits down onto one of the sofas, Pedro sits near and swings his cast up onto a low stool nearby. Richard checks they're both ok before heading off towards what Jamie presumes is the kitchen. Jamie sits on the remaining sofa and looks to Scott, still standing. Jamie jerks his head.  Sit.  Scott flinches but takes a few moments to sit down. But he does and Jamie is relieved. Jamie leans into the sofa and winces. He has a bullet wound in his back, and it's not that he forgets it's there, but...

"Did Natalie tell you we were coming?" he asks.

Matt nods. "She was really excited. And she has been worried."

"I'll let her know you're here safely," says Richard, entering the room with a tray. "Tea?"

"Uh," Jamie says. "I've never really had tea."

Matt and Richard exchange a look. Richard gives him a cup anyway and tops it off with milk. "As well?" he asks Scott.

Jamie pulls a face without meaning to. Scott looks alarmed at being addressed and leans back almost imperceptibly. Jamie nearly shouts at Richard for making him uncomfortable but quells that urge. They don't know, they don't mean any harm. Richard glances at Jamie, who takes a sip of his (scalding hot!) tea and nearly chokes. It's strangely bitter.

Matt, a ghost of a smile on his face, says, "We have other things. Like Coke, or water."

"Maybe both?" asks Jamie, aware they haven't kept very hydrated for the past few days.

Scott doesn't drink anything. He had only eaten or drank in transit when Jamie had told him to. He feels embarrassed to have to do that in front of the others but Scott, so pale in his bloodied and dirtied suit, is worrying him even more. He's staring at the coffee table. Jamie has no idea what he's thinking. Jamie pushes the water towards him. "Drink something."

Scott takes a couple of sips. All eyes are on him.

"What happened to your leg?" asks Jamie. It isn't the question he meant to ask; he doesn't have the energy to ask what he wants to ask.

Pedro frowns. He looks at Matt. "It is... long. A long story."

Jamie nods. "I get that."

The woman comes in with a plate of biscuits. "I'm Professor Joanna Chambers," she says and sits in the remaining armchair. "This is my house." There's a pause, in which Jamie feels very uncomfortable. "You're welcome to it."

"Thank you," says Jamie, relief rushing in.

"I imagine we all have plenty of questions and plenty of answers, but all of you are exhausted. I suggest you all have a relaxing evening and we can save the serious chat for the morning."

Part of Jamie feels impatient. The world is about to be torn apart, he's seen the horrors that they'll all have to face and isn't that more important than rest? But then he'll have to discuss it all in front of Scott, unsure as to how he'll take it. Will he take it? Will it even register past his blank expression and seemingly empty mind? 

Scott shuts his eyes briefly. He looks tired. 

"We've rooms for you both," says Joanna Chambers. 

"We can share," Jamie says quickly, reluctant to leave Scott in a strange house in a strange room, all by himself. Reluctant to separate again. 

"Of course."

The tea grows on Jamie. Suddenly, he too is shattered and can think of nothing better than a warm bed. Perhaps a shower first. Both of which are offered to him with no real strings attached - aside from the obvious, help us save the world. 

"Do you want to shower?" he asks Scott as the others start to chat about what to watch. 

The expression on Scott's face makes Jamie feel awful for asking him a question. "Have a shower" he says. Scott still has blood on his neck. 

"I'll show you around," says Matt. He stands with some difficulty. Christ but they're all in bad shape, aren't they? Jamie has to tug Scott's elbow to get him to move and has to guide him in front. The room they're offered with twin beds with comfortable bed linen and, Jamie notes, a wardrobe full of clothes in different sizes, looks like heaven. More welcome than Jamie's ever felt. He shakes Matt's hand again as he leaves them to it, in appreciation. Jamie hopes Matt understands, and the way Matt nods means Jamie thinks he does. Maybe they've had a more similar life than Jamie would have originally thought. 

Scott comes out of the shower in a towel. He has painful looking cuts on his chest and maybe what looks like burns. Jamie chucks some pyjamas at him that look like they would fit. 

And then, finally, after a long hot shower where Jamie scrubs every last grain of the travel off his body, Jamie falls into a deep, dreamless sleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

Jamie snores. Not a lot, just enough to wake Holly up. She's wriggled down the bed so her toes are against the bars at the end of the bed. His nostrils, which she has a very good view of, flare with every snore. The gentle light filling her room and the way she feels so unrested mean it's probably not long past dawn. 

Holly's cold. Jamie runs so warmly yet he's so slim, she doesn't know how that works. He looks so peaceful when he sleeps. And strangely grown up. She'd always read that people looked younger asleep, but Jamie looks older without the perpetual smile gracing his face. He looks handsome. His strong nose, his soft lips, his long eyelashes. Would he ever know how much she loves him?

Holly can't resist. She reaches out and lightly strokes his cheek. He doesn't seem to notice so she reaches forward and ever-so-gently touches her lips to his. His eyelids flutter. She waits, a bated breath to see if he wakes up. She hopes he does. 

Jamie doesn't wake. Disappointed, Holly snuggles forwards into him. Warming. 

"Mmm," he breathes, tucking his arm around Holly's middle. She's nose deep in his neck and while she can't really breathe, ...well, who needs to breathe at this point? He's warm and safe and loving and surrounds her. Unfortunately... she does have to breathe. She tilts her nose slightly. They drift in sleep for a while, maybe a few hours, maybe much less, until Holly has to pull away as she's too warm. She turns away, but Jamie's hand rests on her hip. Comforting. 

He murmurs, or mumbles, or hums. He doesn't open his mouth but he rumbles from his chest, low enough she feels it rather than hears. Jamie pulls Holly in close, spooning her body with his. His head is tucked behind and above hers, his knees push into her knees, his body melts against hers. Or, perhaps, it's the other way around? 

Holly's feet are so cold. At one point in the night, they were toasty. And yet...

"Fuck off," groans Jamie, holding her closer. The arm snakes around her waist and pulls her in. 

"Mmm," groans Holly back. "You fuck off."

She presses her freezing toes into his warm calf. 

"Fuck off," Jamie repeats. He kisses her head. "How are they so fucking cold?"

"It's a marvel," she says. 

"Mmmmmmmmm," Jamie groans, angrier than Holly's. 

"Fuck off," says Holly. 

"You fuck off," says Jamie. 

She turns around in his arms. Jamie's nose in front of her nose, Jamie's mouth in front of her mouth, she can't resist but bridge that gap and touch their lips. 

But doesn't kiss. Jamie's eyes are half open. He eyes her and shuts them again, lips gentle. 

She brushes her lips over his. It's not a kiss. It's a brush. 

Jamie brushes back, the wanker. 

"You fucker," says Jamie, eventually. Against her lips.

"Well, fuck you," says Holly. 

"Yeah, fuck me very much," says Jamie, and he kisses her. Powerfully, forcefully. If she stopped herself, she could cry, how intense is the emotion from action. Holly never knew she could feel like this. Every suffering in her life has led up to this moment. The love in his lips, the taste in his kiss, the need of his body against hers. Holly has never felt more. 


End file.
